'The Weather Forecast' by Martin Russell

Today it didn’t rain. Yesterday it did rain, but only in the Trossachs, and on the spire of Inverness Cathedral. I journeyed out in hope, but soon found the wind biting into my cheeks.

‘It’s cauld,’ said a man of few words.

‘Aye,’ I said. What would we find to talk about, if we didn’t have the weather?

‘I got off with that girl who works in WH Smith, last week.’

‘Frost predicted,’ he said.

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